Begierde
by Naxxaras
Summary: Roderich Edelstein struggles with his social prestige and aching desires as a young man. Set in to an arranged marriage to further his family's bloodline and wealth, it seems as though it's one of two options: to do what his parents wish or what he wishes. After dinner with his bride-to-be, Roderich spends a night contemplating his options, until a drunken German stumbles upon him.


_First real fanfic, and was inspires by another fanfiction writer to do a Hetalia pairing. This story is taking place around 1898. I'm going to try to be as historically accurate as I can, but I'm not going to make any solid promises. This isn't really going to be centered around politics, anyhow. Just more around Roderich's life and just days in Vienna._

* * *

This cool and arid Vienna night was a welcome to Roderich. With the clear skies, the expanse above was open to him, and the twinkling of the hundreds of stars was a comfort to the Austrian. Earlier this same night had been a rather stiff dinner between he and his bride-to-be Elizaveta, a young woman of Hungarian birth with flowing brown hair and, what Roderich would dub, unfriendly emerald eyes. Not much was spoken between the two, and the idea of marriage wasn't pleasant to Roderich. Not that he held no desire for it, however. The problem lay with his taste in the same sex.

He ran a hand through his dark auburn hair and stared at the most brilliant of the shining specks dotting the night sky. He lived a privileged life where people dressed in elaborate clothing, danced only to the finest music, ate food perfected by master chefs and despised what they couldn't understand. While Roderich knew his family had the money to allow him a new life somewhere faraway, he too knew he could not do that to his parents. For their only child to do such a selfish and controversial act would be shameful and humiliating. And should he ever reveal his dark affections... no he could not. That would destroy them, in more ways than one.

All of his thoughts were suddenly interrupted at distant yelling, disrupting the silent night Roderich had intentionally escaped to. Wearily, Roderich turned to where he believed the noise to be coming from, and saw a commotion outside a tavern. Certainly not one for those of upper class to visit, so Roderich could only assume he'd walked a fair bit from home. He watched as a man was thrown out, his obnoxious yelling turning in to a more enraged tone. Roderich let out a deep breath from his nose before turning away and rest his forehead against clasped fists. A riff raff, no doubt, causing a ruckus and drinking more than they could handle. His stomach churned as he heard footsteps approaching. A very slurred and hoarse voice spoke out, and only now did Roderich realize it was German.

"'Ay, who the hell're you?" Roderich looked up quizzically, and was immediately alarmed at the rustic color of the man's eyes and his white hair. Taken aback by the man's abnormal physical appearance, he did not respond. "What? Can't under... understand proper German, you bastard?" He hiccuped.

Roderich couldn't help but return his glare. "I beg your pardon, but why does knowing who I am matter? I'm simply a bystander who happened to be sitting with their thoughts, now disturbed by an intrusive drunkard."

"Who you callin' a drunk?! I am _PERFECTLY_ sober." He replied indignantly. "And watch who you're talkin' to, fancy pants. Never... hic! Never know what trouble that could bring ya'." He stumbled slightly where he stood, suddenly beginning to hum lightly right after.

"Right... well, as wonderful as this chat has been, I must take my leave." Roderich gave a curt bow before turning on his heel to walk away. He felt himself shudder when a hand landed heavily on his shoulder, and a loud burp caused his face to contort in disgust.

"Hey, hey... If I'm so drunk, what sort'a manners would you have if you left me here? What if I died on the side of the road?" The silver-haired man spoke in a dramatic tone.

"That would make me a very fortunate man." Roderich couldn't even believe how childish that was. And why would this man even assume something like that? They could barely see each other's faces in this lighting and didn't even exchange names. If this man was found dead the next day, Roderich was under the impression he wouldn't even recognize the corpse.

The man scoffed. "How could you say that! Your parents teach you any manners?" Roderich could ask the same thing.

"Would you please let me go?" Roderich spoke with exasperation, tugging his shoulder away. That only seemed to make this drunks grip tighter. Roderich opened his mouth, ready to shout, though only a quiet gasp escaped when he felt the man lean up against him, the white head resting on his shoulder. His stomach churned and his heart let loose a series of nervous thumps.

"I feel really sick." Roderich heard in a muffled whine. "Oh God..." And with that, he heard a dry heave.

Roderich immediately moved away and turned, steadying him at an arms length. "Don't proceed to vomit on me, then!" Roderich felt weight coming down onto his arms and struggled to hold the bastard up. "Dear Lord, just sit down!" He pleaded, beginning to feel himself sink as well.

"Mmm... help me out." He moaned, grasping Roderich's arms. "I need to get home."

Roderich did all he could to help him stand up straight, almost on the verge of panting. It was rather irritating to realize how weak he was, especially in this situation. He huffed. "Very well. Where is your home?" More irritation. Why did he say that?

"Prussia!" He exclaimed, seeming to suddenly light up. "The land of my heart." Roderich glared at him.

"Do you have any idea where you are?" Wonderful. So this was a drunk tourist, then? Roderich was highly considering the option of leaving this man in a ditch. He was about to release him when he met eyes with the Prussian. His heart suddenly thumped and a sweat broke on his neck. Their faces were only inches from one another, and it was easier to see his features in the dim light. Those eyes seemed almost crimson at this moment, and Roderich only realized now how handsome he really was.

"Oh my God, that is a big mole." Roderich grit his teeth and released him, pleased to watch as he stumbled back, nearly landing on the road beneath them. "Why'd you do that to me?" He whined, steadying himself.

"I haven't heard one word from you that would make me help you. You are demanding, intrusive to other people's space, and completely rude." Roderich folded his arms, peering down at him. When he received a glare this time, the look sent a chill through him.

"Calling me rude. Well, then, -please, would you help me?" He asked in a dramatic tone, helping himself stand up. Roderich gave him a weary look be holding out an arm. He was given a questioning look.

"Excuse me if I don't want to pick you up should you tumble over." Roderich replied, holding his arm still. His heart again betrayed him by thrumming loudly a second after being touched again by the Prussian. "Because you claim your home is in Prussia, which is hundreds of kilometers from here, a night in an inn should be fine enough." Was he making this his responsibility?

"Thank you, dear." He replied, making Roderich scoff.

There wasn't much spoken between them as they walked the street. Few passed by, and that was to be expected. Roderich honestly hadn't a clue as to what time it was, but he knew it was extremely late. He couldn't help but feel curious of what the servants and his parents thought, if they noticed his absence. He knew that the response wouldn't be pleasant. He likely would have returned some time ago, had he not come across this inebriate. A sudden belch spooked him, and instantly sickened him after. "Honestly..."

"Heh, sorry. But hey, they usually aren't that weak. I wonder what the hell's goin' on." He snorted. Roderich didn't want to know. And hopefully, that was as bad as it would get for tonight. He knew he'd be the one expelling his dinner if anymore of that went on. Not that he was that pretentious, but each was next to his face and reeked of cheap alcohol. It baffled him how this man could even think anyone could sit through that without the slightest problem with it.

At long last, perhaps shorter than this walk had felt, they reached the inn Roderich had been searching for. He helped his new "aquiatance" in and ordered him to stay somewhere safe, keep quiet, not barf, and not fall over. He was met with a ridiculous remark on how high maintenance those demands were. Before he yelled at this arrogant bastard, he turned and walked to the innkeeper, asking for one night and handing over the asked amount of krone for a single night's stay. He returned shortly to the Prussian's side. With the better light provided in the building, Roderich could really study his features. He still had something of a ghostly look about him, but his white hair was now shown to be a bright colored blonde, and his rustic eyes were only reddened further with his drunkeness. Nonetheless, he was even better looking now. "... I've payed for you to sleep here for the night."

"Thank you." He replied. That was oddly sincere. Though, Roderich now realized how tired he appeared, as well. He was leaning against the wall, his eyelids seeming heavy and his head low. Roderich's expression softened.

"Come with me... I'll help you to the room." He helped steady the blonde and lead him along, following after the innkeep. Once the three arrived, Roderich gave thanks and entered with the stumbling drunk. Roderich guided him to the bed and allowed him to simply fall on it, though he didn't get any kind of retort or snap, so he assumed it was fine.

"Well. I'll be taking my leave, then." Roderich informed him. "Don't ever drink again without company. And don't do it during the day, either. God forbid any other poor soul has to deal with you." groaned Roderich. He recieved a snort in return, but no comment. And so, Roderich turned promptly and headed back for the door.

"Hm? Hey... thank you. What's your name? I'm Gilbert Beils..." Whatever the last bit was, Roderich had no idea. It had been too mumbled and slurred. He simply opened the door and thought a moment. He felt like the man wouldn't remember if he told him, and so he didn't feel much harm in replying.

"Roderich." With that, he left. He hoped dearly he'd never see this man again. Partly for how irritatingly disgusting he could be, but mostly for how handsome he was. Roderich knew that if there was any chance of something happening, that it was dangerous... a relationship he could not be involved with, no matter how brief. His duty was to his family, to his life. There was enough that made him happy. He could do without this. He had to.

* * *

_A krone is what Austrian's used from the 1890s to 1918 for currency._

_Sorry about the shortness, but I'm eager to get this out there and start writing ^^. I'm definitely not amazing, but practice gets us there, right?_


End file.
